


and you're trying to remember how fine your life used to be

by CosmoKid



Series: that was the river (this is the sea) [6]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Anxiety, Canon Compliant, Coma, Crushes, Cuddling & Snuggling, Depression, F/M, Flashbacks, Gen, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Mental Breakdown, Nightmares, Praise Kink, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-27
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2020-05-20 11:41:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19376002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CosmoKid/pseuds/CosmoKid
Summary: 7 Days After PraimfayaDespite the multitude of blankets and pillows littering their bed, everything still feels cold and sterile. Emori’s snuggled up beside him and though Murphy feels an urge to bury his face into the crook of her neck, he doesn’t. He just stares up at the ceiling, trying to block out the hum of the generators.He can still remember the joy that had run through him the first time he realized that he couldn’t hear it anymore. It was almost euphoria; he was free. They were on the ground, it was a miracle. They were onearth.And now he’s back in space again, back in the cold metal box that is the Ark. Sure, this time he has Emori and Raven and Bellamy, he guesses, but it’s still nothing but a glorified cage.an interlude of what happened on the ring





	and you're trying to remember how fine your life used to be

**Author's Note:**

> just a warning: after _unknown_ it has descriptions of several anxiety dreams/nightmares that murphy experienced during the coma he was in. im not sure if theres anything triggering in it, but ill just warn for it just in case. so if you wanna skip it, skip to the second _unknown_. 
> 
>  
> 
> i think this might be the one part that is canon compliant

_7 Days After Praimfaya_

Despite the multitude of blankets and pillows littering their bed, everything still feels cold and sterile. Emori’s snuggled up beside him and though Murphy feels an urge to bury his face into the crook of her neck, he doesn’t. He just stares up at the ceiling, trying to block out the hum of the generators.

He can still remember the joy that had run through him the first time he realized that he couldn’t hear it anymore. It was almost euphoria; he was free. They were on the ground, it was a miracle. They were on _earth_. 

And now he’s back in space again, back in the cold metal box that is the Ark. Sure, this time he has Emori and Raven and Bellamy, he guesses, but it’s still nothing but a glorified cage. 

“John?” Emori asks beside him, breaking him out of his thoughts. He turns his head to look at her and smiles. “Tell me a story.”

He raises his eyebrows. “A story?”

She gives him a flat look and his smile grows. It’s easier to breathe up here in moments like this, ones he’s familiar with. The usual level of snarkiness between them has somewhat been missing since the whole radiation-lab-rats incident so it’s nice when they can return to it, even if it’s just for a few minutes. 

“A story about what?” he asks, leaning forward just enough that their noses brush together.

“About the Ark,” she says and her breath tickles his face. He relishes in it for a few seconds until he remembers he needs to process the words. She raises her eyebrows as if she knows what’s going on his brain and continues, “About what it was like to grow up here, you know, _in space_.”

“Uh,” he says, eloquence shining through. Emori snorts.

He wonders if she can see the cogs whirring in his brain as he tries to think of a happy story. Most of the ones he can think of are so far repressed that he can barely remember the details and the ones that he can remember in detail aren’t nice ones. He licks his lips and makes a tally of the few he can think of and makes a mental note to edit a few in case she asks for more.

Taking a deep breath, he starts to tell her about the time he and Mbege had stolen some shirts when they were put on laundry rotation together and how the guard outside had figured it out and that they’d had to run like madmen around the corridors of the Ark. He leaves out the details of their first hiding spot which was a far too small closet, skipping straight to when Roma had hidden them in her compartment, pretending that her girlfriend had just broken up with her to get the guards to leave.

It makes her laugh, especially the detail of them attempting to jump a table and falling over and the part where Mbege grabbed a loaf of bread and tossed it to Murphy who caught it in his mouth, not realizing there was a raisin with it that he’d nearly choked on. She practically rolls around laughing when he tells her about Roma forgetting the name of her made up girlfriend and just saying random names. 

“Gertrude?” Emori asks him, laughing so hard he can barely make out the name. “What kind of-, what kind of name is Gertrude?”

“I don’t know, you’d have to ask…” he trails off. He scratches his nose and tries not to think about how almost everyone he knew on the Ark is dead. “You’d have to ask her. Is it really any weirder than Jacapo or Thelonius?”

“ _Yes_ ,” she says with such a determined tone to her voice that he lets out a bark of laughter. She rolls her eyes again, but she’s still smiling. “So, what was this Roma like?”

He shrugs. “I didn’t really know her. She was Mbege’s friend.”

“Was she pretty?”

“Why does that matter?” he asks and wonders, momentarily, if he was supposed to say something like _not as pretty as you._

“It doesn’t,” she tells him and he raises an eyebrow in question. She leans forward so their foreheads are touching. “You’ve just never mentioned anyone, you know, special before? I was just wondering if there was someone before me.”

He blinks. There were people before her, but none who ever reciprocated his feelings. He was a friend to Mbege, but Mbege was more to him. Same as Bellamy when they first landed.

“Not really,” he says, forcing all the memories to the back of his mind. “I’m not exactly the type of most people.”

“I can’t imagine why not,” she says and he watches her eyes darken. He surges forward and captures her lips with his own. Her arms come round to loop around his neck and she pushes forward so he’s lying on his back with her on top. “They don’t know what they’re missing out on.”

 

-/-/--/-/-

 

He turns over when he feels the mattress shift, watching as Emori climbs out. 

“Where are you going?” he asks and shivers, already feeling the cold again. They normally cuddle now, tangling their limbs around each other and holding on like they could die any minute. Mostly because they could. 

Emori reaches the door to the bathroom before she turns around. “I need to pee.”

“Can’t it wait?”

“No,” she says although there’s still a playful glint in her eyes. “Anyway, Monty said it’s important to pee after to lower the risk of any infection.”

“Right,” he says and just watches as she leaves the room, unable to figure out the weird feeling in his stomach.

He turns over, laying his head on his pillow and tries not to think.

 

_31 Days After Praimfaya_

One thing that becomes apparent almost as soon as they’ve all settled in (or at least the best they can, in Murphy’s case) is that he's the most useless one out of them. No one is willing to say it, but if they were to run out of food, he’d be the first one to be eaten. 

Echo can teach them how to fight and how to speak Trigedasleng. Harper and Bellamy can show them how to shoot and how to aim. Raven works with all the electrical stuff and Emori has shown herself to be a great apprentice. Monty is busy making food for them to eat. Everyone has a function up here beside him.

Survival is the only thing he’s good at it, but that’s hardly useful when they’re trapped in space for at least five years with no outward threats. He supposes he makes people laugh with little jokes, but that’s not really useful.

Part of him wants to think _fuck it, I don’t have to be useful_ , but another part of him knows that he can’t be the bitter kid only looking out for himself anymore. He’s not sure he ever was that anyway. 

Whether or not he was doesn’t matter now. What matters is finding a way to be useful which is how he ended up here, trying to organize all the medicine in the makeshift medical area they have. At a first glance, he can only identify the function for two medicines and one of them, he doesn’t even want to think about. Instead, he has to read the fine print on every single box which sucks a lot.

It doesn’t really help because that just means he’s left with several piles of medicines surrounding him which is why he’s now organizing them all alphabetically whilst also trying to guess which are out of date because he doesn’t actually know what date it is. They’re a month after the radiation wave, but he doesn’t know how long he’d been on Earth before that. He spent three months locked in a bunker, but he doesn’t know how long has passed before or after that. 

If you were to look up the definition of “fun” in a definition, this activity would be listed first under antonyms of it.

But there’s something calming about it, in a way. It’s not really hard work, just tedious and repetitive, but it’s also not brain-numbing. He has to use enough of his brain to do it to stop it from drifting into thought patterns he’d rather avoid. Really, his only complaint is the fact that he can’t just do this forever.

He’s just finishing the pile of painkillers when he’s interrupted by a knock on the door that makes him jump the best he can when he has cramp all over and is really tired.

“Murphy?” Bellamy asks and he turns, matching Bellamy’s gaze and raising his eyebrows because he’s not sure how else to respond. “It’s dinner time.” 

“Right,” he says and bites his lip. He wants to look away, but he can’t bring himself to.

Bellamy whistles and looks around the room. “You’ve done a pretty good job at organizing all this. It’s much cleaner.”

“Thanks,” he says and his voice is distant. He feels a weird shoot of pleasure at the praise and that’s not something he wants to deal with now, or ever really. 

It looks like Bellamy wants to say something else, but he doesn’t. Instead, he opens the door wider and says, “After you.”

 

_Unknown_

He’s wandering the halls of the Ark, trying to find something. He can’t think of what. He just needs to get there, he knows he does. It’s important to get there, that’s all he knows.

The halls are dull and grey, each corridor seeming to get darker. The lights above him are flickering, on and off, on and off, on and off. There’s a buzzing noise, he assumes it’s coming from the lights. It has to. But the lights look wrong. He can’t tell what’s wrong, but something about them is wrong.

With every step he takes, he swears he shrinks. He never gets closer to the floor, but the ceiling seems to be higher and higher every time he looks up. He can’t breathe.

He sees a left turn in front of him. He needs to go that way, but when he gets to it, it’s not there. He can only turn right. Maybe he could turn back, but something about that feels wrong.

There’s a closet he keeps walking past. Sometimes it’s on his left and sometimes it’s on his right and sometimes it's not either. He doesn’t know how. He guesses he must be going in circles. It gets darker every time he passes it and his stomach fills with overwhelming anxiety every time he sees it. There’s something wrong in it, something bad.

His Dad used to tell him about some ghost who haunted their station, _The Grey Lady_. She could float and she hated children and she would choke people to death and she was harmless and she had long hair that draped after and she had claws for nails and she was a victim and a villain and she probably didn’t exist, but he swears she’s in that closet. She’s going to jump out soon, she’ll catch him and she’ll kill him. He’ll be dead before he wakes up, but he is awake, but he’s not, but he’s… he doesn’t know.

 

-/-/--/-/-

 

“ _Pay attention!_ ”

His head jerks up and his hands bang on the table, the pen in his hand nearly snapping. He looks down at the book in front of them and then up around the classroom. No one’s speaking. 

“ _Wake up!_ ”

He blinks and squints at the board, trying to read it. The words seem to disappear just as his eye lock onto them. He rubs his eyes. Were they even there in the first place? 

“Is everything alright, Mr. Murphy?” the teacher asks even though he’s not looking at him. He’s writing on the board, but that’s… no that’s wrong. He nods. “Good. Carry on with your sums then.”

His sums? What sums? What does that mean?

He looks down at the book again. Oh, those sums. The ones written in front of him in his handwriting. That’s right, he’s in math class. He glances around the room again, it all makes sense now. There’s Mbege on the other side of the room of him and there’s Harper sitting beside him. He can see Dax and Roma in the row in front of him and Fox is sat beside him. He must have just fell asleep in math class again. 

Taking a deep breath, he grips his pen and looks back down at the book. If he can get them done quick, he might be able to leave early and he and Mbege can go scam some drunks out of their rations in a game of poker. He doesn’t have anywhere to be tonight.

Or does he? His brow furrows. He doesn’t think he does, but something is telling him that he does. He has somewhere he needs to be. He doesn’t know where it is though, he just has to be there.

He rolls his eyes at his own brain and focusses on his work. Or at least he tries to, but the sums aren’t sums anymore. They’re not even numbers anymore. It all looks Greek to him. 

“Hey, Fox,” he whispers, reaching over to nudge. She turns to look at him with a blank look in her eyes. “Um, what are we, what are we doing?”

Her head cocks to the side in slow motion. “Math, remember?”

“Yeah, I know. I just, my worksheet doesn’t have numbers on it.”

She smiles or at least the corners of her lips turn up as if she is smiling. She’s not though. “Yes, it does, silly.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“Of course, it does,” she tells him and points at his page. He blinks, it’s like her arm didn’t move at all. “Look.”

He looks; there are numbers again. “Oh, right… thank you.”

“No problem, John.”

“It’s Murphy,” he says. She doesn’t react. 

He swallows and tries to focus on the page again. There are no numbers now though, there’s nothing on it. His page is blank and it’s alive. He blinks. His page isn’t alive. How could it be alive? It’s just a page.

They don’t use pages, do they? They use computers or at least he thinks they do. He doesn’t know.

“Murphy!”

His head snaps up again. He looks around the classroom. No one spoke. He blinks and looks down at his page. There are numbers again. He grips his pen and his hand moves of its own accord, working on the sums. 

“Is everything alright, Mr. Murphy?”

That’s the teacher. “Uh yeah.”

“Good,” the teacher says as Murphy tries to remember his name. 

He watches as the man turns around, his eyes widening when he sees the single eye in the middle of the man’s forehead. He coughs, there’s something in his throat. Why does he feel like he’s choking? Is he choking? It’s like he’s choking on the man’s eyeball, the one not in his head, obviously. But there’s only room for one eyeball in his head. He’s only got one eye. 

His shoulders tense as he coughs again, trying to get it out of his throat. He just needs to get it out and wake up and get it out. It’ll be fine if he can, everything will be fine if he can.

“Is everything alright, Mr. Murphy?”

He nods, “Yeah.”

 

-/-/--/-/-

 

His hands fly to his neck. He scratches at it. There’s something on his neck. He can’t breathe. It tightens around his neck, whatever it is. He scratches again, but his nails aren’t there. He can’t scratch. Why can’t he scratch? What happened?

He opens his eyes. There’s someone just above him, their hands around his neck and their eyes are emotionless. Everything is gray.

“Help!” he tries to yell, but nothing comes out. 

_Please_ , he thinks, but he doesn’t know why. He stares.

 

-/-/--/-/-

 

Everything is dark when he opens his eyes. His hands are pinned down to his sides and he can’t sit up. He swallows, trying to keep his breathing steady. It’s fine, it’ll be fine. He’s awake, that’s all that matters. 

He waits as his eyes adjust to the darkness, being able to make out the bed he’s lying in. It’s being moved and there are wires and drips attached all over his body. His stomach drops, he doesn’t like this. 

There are hushed voices above him, faceless figures looking at him. One of them moves to grab onto one of the wires on his chest. His eyes widen, but he can’t move. He just watches as the figure drags it out and moves it.

 _I want my Mom,_ he thinks and then shakes his head. No, he doesn’t. 

The bed is wheeled around a corner and he forces himself to look around. He’s in a hospital, at least it looks like one. The walls are white and sterile, but all the beds around him are empty. Everything is empty.

“Turn left for the radiation chamber,” one of the figures says.

“Radiation,” he whispers and tries to sit up. He can’t. He needs to though. He needs to help Emori, he can’t let them use the radiation chamber. They’ll kill her. They’re going to kill her. “No, you can’t! Please! You can’t! I love her, please! Don’t do this, please. Please. _Please!_ ”

“Calm down, John,” Clarke says. He shakes his head, opening his mouth to speak, but no words come out. “We’re just taking you to your quarters so you can die with your family.”

His brow scrunches up. “My quarters? What? Where are you taking me?”

“To your quarters, silly,” Clarke says and her voice is almost teasing in tone. It doesn’t really sound like her though, it sounds more like her Mom, but younger. He’s so confused. 

“W-why?”

“You’re going to die, John, but don’t worry. You’ll die in your quarters with your family.”

“My family?” he asks, trying to focus on the face. He still doesn’t know who is speaking to him. “You mean Bellamy and Monty? And Harper and Echo and Raven and Emori?”

“No, silly,” Not-Clarke says. He frowns. “Your Mom and Dad.”

“My Mom and Dad? They’re dead.”

“So are you.”

“What?”

She laughs. “Come along now John, we need to get you to the quarters. You have to be quiet now, you don’t wake them up.”

“Them? Who’s them?”

The woman shushes him, “You need to be quiet.”

That’s not Clarke or Abby. He knows the voice very well, but it’s not them. He doesn’t know who it is, but he knows that he does know, but he can’t remember who. The sound of the voice makes his heart pound in his chest, but he doesn’t know why.

_“I deserve this throne. I was raised for it. I was snatched from my parents by the Azgeda Queen. I suffered her cruelty and I won the Conclave. You don't get to judge me.”_

He freezes. He knows that voice, he knows it all too well. He can’t wake her up. She’ll kill him. Or worse. He doesn’t want to do it, not again. Please no, please. He doesn’t want to. He never wanted to. Why won’t Emori believe him? Why did she have to do that to him? Why couldn’t he have just escaped Polis? Why can’t it all just stop?

“The things you do to survive, John Murphy.”

“No,” he yells and then claps his hands over his mouth. 

He pushes himself up on the bed, his eyes locking on an apple in the distance. He rubs his eyes, expecting it to disappear, but it doesn’t. He frowns, none of this is making sense.

“What’s wrong, Johnny?”

“Mom?” he asks, his jaw falling open as he turns his head. “Mom, it’s, it’s, it’s you… it’s… Mom?”

“Yes, Johnny?” she asks, smiling at him. He narrows his gaze. She doesn’t smile. “What’s wrong, John? There’s nothing to be sad about. You know what we say to that, turn that frown upside down.”

He stares at her, his mouth moving of its own accord as he involuntarily smiles. The word falls out of his mouth before he can stop, “Mommy?”

“Mommy?” she repeats in a cruel tone and the smile falls. The flip is unexpected even though he spent years learning to avoid it. He flinches as the stench of alcohol invades his nose. He gags, unable to turn away. “ _I’m not your fucking Mommy._ ”

A growl escapes her. He wants to run away, but he’s frozen to the bed. His eyes widen as she begins to grow head after head after head after head. They all grin in unison, showing sharp white teeth. He can see flames behind them. “What the fuck?”

 

-/-/--/-/-

 

His cheek stings. He blinks. Where is he?

He’s pushed backward, his hands scratching on the floor below him. He looks up to see Pike above him. His brow furrow and his eyes narrow. He’s in the Earth Skills classroom. He doesn’t need to do Earth Skills, does he? Pike’s dead.

Why is Pike here?

“ _You need to keep fighting_.”

“What?”

“You need to keep fighting,” Pike repeats and kicks him. Fuck, that hurts. “You need to keep fighting, John Murphy, you need to keep fighting.”

He pushes himself up to his feet clumsily, falling into the wall behind him. That wasn’t there before. He asks, “Why?”

“You need to keep fighting,” Pike repeats.

“Why?” he asks again. 

Pike punches him. “You need to keep fighting.”

“Why?” he yells, wrapping his arms around his body as a weak attempt of a shield. “ _Why?_ ”

“You need to keep fighting.”

He shakes his head and stands up straighter. “Why? Why do I? I don’t want to.”

Pike hits him again. His head whips to the side. “Always keep fighting.”

“ _I don’t want to_ ,” he snaps and stomps his foot. “I’m tired, I’m done.”

“You need to keep fighting,” Pike repeats and leaps at him. Murphy’s eyes widen as he watches as his skin peels back to reveal golden fur and sharp, blood-soaked teeth. Claws slice through skin and bones and he screams.

 

-/-/--/-/-

 

“What’s the access code?” Dr. Griffin asks beside him, her voice rushed.

“Ascende superius,” he replies immediately, staring at the flame in his hand. He turns to look at her. “Why?”

“You need to use the code, John,” she tells him.

“It’s ascende superius,” he repeats, his brow furrowing. “Why?”

“Use the code, John.”

“Ascende superius. Why do I need to use it?”

“The code, John!”

“Ascende superius!”

“John!”

“It’s ascende superius, what do you want?” he snaps, throwing his hands in the air. They’re empty now. 

“You need to wake her up, John,” Dr. Griffin tells him in a stony voice. He shrugs, his eyes wide. He doesn’t have a fucking clue what she wants. “Use the code.”

“I have, it’s ascende superius!” he yells, unable to control his voice. “Wake who up? I don’t know what you expect me to do!”

“Wake her up, John,” she says and her face relaxes into a neutral expression. “Wake her up, wake her up, wake up, wake her up, John, wake her up.”

 

_Unknown_

Everything is white when he opens his eyes. He squints; it’s too bright. He turns his head to see Bellamy beside him with his eyes half closed and a book in his hands. Murphy frowns when he sees the title, _the Illiad_. He speaks without thinking, “Never read that to me again.”

Bellamy startles and then he smiles, looking a little insane. “Murphy?”

 

_401 Days After Praimfaya_

The Earth looks beautiful from space, even on fire. He supposes it might not be literally on fire now, but it still looks like it is. It’s exquisite though, a sort of chaotic beauty. 

He supposes _angry_ is a better word. He still likes it though even if it looks more like Mars than Earth now.

Footsteps echo around the hallways and he turns to face whoever comes to join him, smiling when he sees Emori. She smiles back and when she meets him, she wraps an arm around his waist. 

“Hey,” he murmurs and presses a kiss to her forehead.

“Hey you,” she whispers and leans up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “What are you up to?”

He shrugs. “Just looking.”

“At Earth?” she asks and he nods. “Day 400, the Earth is still on fire.”

“It’s day 401 actually.”

She snorts and rolls her eyes. He smirks and wraps an arm around her shoulders. She seems taller now on the Ark, but he knows that’s not possible. He wouldn’t complain, either way, he doubts there’s anything that could happen that would make him love her any less.

“Tell me a story,” she says and he raises his eyebrows, as he always does when she asks. “Of the Ark.”

“I ran out of happy ones six stories ago,” he tells her and she just shrugs as if telling him to make one up. “Why don’t you tell me one about the ground?”

“Maybe another time,” she says, and he nods before turning back to look out the window. “We need Bellamy here to tell us about Io and Zeus or Deucalion.”

He frowns. “Who?”

“Bellamy says they’re Greek myths,” Emori tells him, her voice equal parts patient and exasperated. “Do you ever listen when other people are speaking?”

“I don’t need to, not when I’ve got my face to rely on.”

“Well,” she starts, moving around so she’s in front of him, “It certainly is a pretty face.”

“I know,” he tells her and she rolls her eyes, but she's the one who initiates the kiss.

 

_1847 Days After Praimfaya_

They can’t get back to Earth. There’s not enough fuel. Raven will find a solution, everyone is sure of that, especially Bellamy. Raven always finds a solution, she’s how they got there and how they did everything really. 

Murphy’s not so sure. Raven doesn’t seem sure; she looks crestfallen anytime they bring it up. He gets it. The walls feel like they’re closing in more and more every day.

 

_1889 Days After Praimfaya_

“John,” Emori says, staring at him from the doorway. “You can’t sleep in every day.”

He snorts. “Why not? It’s not like there’s a sunrise to wake me up.”

She lets out a heavy sigh, “You won’t be able to on the ground.”

“Yeah, well, we’re not on the ground, are we?”

“Whatever,” she says after several seconds of silence. “Raven asked me to help her with the radio. If you feel like being productive at all, we’ll be where we always are.”

The door slams and she doesn’t say goodbye.

 

_2011 Days After Praimfaya_

He gasps awake, his throat tight. He reaches to pull the rope away from his neck. He’s going to die, he’s going to suffocate, he can’t breathe, he’s going to die, he’s going to die.

His fingers touch his throat, skin meeting skin. There’s no rope, there’s no chain, there’s nothing around his neck at all. He drops his head to his chest and takes a deep breath.

The bed is empty beside him again.

**Author's Note:**

> okay, id like to explain that the unknown part/anxiety dreams that was the coma. a lot of this is taken specifically from my own experience when i was in a coma and some of it was taken by a description of my friends experience of a coma. i debated keeping it in because it is just a lot of anxiety in words, but like, one of my biggest problems with season five is how murphy being in a coma is basically a throwaway line and as someone who has been in a coma, it has a major effect on you. i know three other people who have been in comas and theyve all agreed that as an experience, it has a major effect on your life.  
> i wouldnt normally explain my intentions, but i will here because most people havent been in a coma so i thought id write what its like to have been in a coma but im not entirely sure i got it across. for me, it was five days of literal non stop nightmares and i was aware i was sleeping the entire time? so i knew i wasnt awake, but i couldnt do anything about it.  
> also to answer the question "if you talk to someone in a coma, do they hear it?" sort of. im not sure i got it across, but i have no memories of that, but my mom read to me the same book every day and apparently when i woke up, i told her to never read that book to me again. and ive tried to portray it here with the greek mythology references in the dreams themselves and how murphy doesnt actually remember any of it when emori talks about it.  
> also also if any of yall ever wanna write about a coma and have questions, feel free to send me asks or message me on tumblr about it and 99% of cases ill be happy to answer and will try my best to give you useful answers. i feel like its important to portray it truthfully as an experience honestly.
> 
>  
> 
> also, the thing emori says about peeing after sex, its important to do that if you have a vulva. it reduces the chance of getting a uti so do it. you dont have to do it like straight after, but you should do it relatively soon after. we practice safe sex here yall (im literally adding this note because i know that a lot of people get their sex education from fanfic so you know, if you are here and are need in sex education, im gonna direct you to batmanisagatewaydrug on tumblr or makenzie marts on youtube)
> 
> btw if any of you get the ring 2 reference, i love you forever even if that movie is just the tiniest yet largest bit terrible. naomi watts owns my soul
> 
>  
> 
> come cry with me on [tumblr](https://listen-to-the-inner-walrus.tumblr.com/)  
> 


End file.
